Of Ropes, Reins, Joy, and Pain
by SabbyStarlight
Summary: Phoenix catches wind of a plan to steal the prize money from a charity rodeo event. Obviously, Matty's first instinct is to send in Mac and Jack. What could possibly go wrong...?


**This got a little away from me, it's way longer than I expected, but I had so much fun with this one. Hope y'all like it!**

Jack is lounging in the War Room, feet propped up on the coffee table in front of him, when Matty walks in, shutting the door behind her and turning on the privacy setting, the room instantly shrouded itself in a white film enveloping the four of them from the rest of the bustling Phoenix hallway.

"Hey, Matty." Riley greets, looking up from her laptop.

"You know, boss lady," Jack begins, "I'm not sure why you get so mad at us when we come in here late when you can't be bothered to show up on time yourself." He's in a good mood this morning, good enough to tease her, all of them just coming off of a rare few days off. "Doesn't exactly set a good example."

"I'm late, Jack," Matty went a few steps out of her way to swat his boots of the table before heading to the front of the room, "Because I was getting the final details on this mission from our informant. Not because I decided that the job could wait so I could make an impromptu stop for pancakes."

Jack rolled his eyes. "That's happened like, once. And saving the world's easier on a sugar high, right Mac?" He elbowed the younger man sitting beside him.

"It's happened at least three times," He answered automatically. "And honestly? I prefer waffles." Catching the betrayed glint in Jack's eyes, he quickly changed the subject. "But, um, mission? I'm guessing there's a reason you called us in?"

"There is." Matty agreed, turning to the screen behind her. "And I would just like to say, Mac, Riley, I'm sorry in advance."

"For...?" Riley asked, shooting a confused look in Mac's direction. He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head to say that he didn't have any more information than she did.

Matty sighed before bringing up a GPS map of their destination. "For this." An enlarged map of the United States popped up behind her, a little blue mark indicating the location of their next job: Texas."

"Yes!" Jack exclaimed, jumping out of his seat. "Finally, Matty! When do we leave?"

"Sit down, Dalton." she said, rolling her eyes but failing to hide the slightest trace of endearment from her face. "Do you not even want to hear what the job is before you hop on the plane?"

"Not if it means goin' back home to Texas!" Jack sat down, clapping Mac on the shoulder in excitement.

"If we're being sent in undercover that means it's hours away from any of your family there, not exactly a fun trip home." Mac pointed out, turning his attention back to Matty. "Are we looking at a reconnaissance job? Surveillance?"

"Please, please, _please_ tell me you're finally gonna listen to me, Matty. You know I already have the greatest cover planned out. It's perfect for this one." Jack begged.

"Since when do you pick out decent cover id's?" Riley asked. "Remember how badly that Bacon King one blew up? Literally, Jack, it blew up."

"Beef Jerky," Jack automatically corrected. "And sure, that wasn't the best I've come up with but I was workin' on the spot there. I've put years of planning into this one. Mac, buddy, back me up here!"

"Jack has this long-lived fantasy about getting to be a Texas Ranger," Mac explained.

"Hey, I'll have you know that was a valid backup plan if the CIA didn't work out. And I've been sent on four, count em, four," He held up four fingers to emphasize his point. "Missions in Texas since I jumped onboard this organization and not one of 'em has let me use that dream as a cover. C'mon, Matty. I'm not above begging for this one. Hell, the last time we got sent on a job in Texas Mac got thrown into the slammer for a week. Nearly killed the kid. Phoenix owes us a chance to get to be Rangers!"

"You're dream, big guy. Not mine." Mac reminded his partner with a laugh, clapping him on the shoulder. "I'm perfectly content with whatever cover Matty has planned."

"I'll be sure to remind you of that in a few minutes," Matty assured. "And no, Jack, you don't get to go change your name to Walker just yet, but I think you'll like this one."

"Why?" He asked warily, though his interests were clearly piqued.

She pressed a button on the screen behind her and an advertisement popped up for the Western Texas All-Star Charity Rodeo.

"Aww, yeah." Jack sat back down, crossing his arms with a huge grin on his face. "This is gonna be good."

"Let me begin this by saying that I didn't know there was money in rodeo, but apparently there is. And lots of it."

Jack nodded, as if that were a fact everyone should know. "If you're good enough and can stay on the circuit for a few years? It'll set you up for life. So long as you don't get killed before the checks come in. What're we lookin' at? A heist or an illegal gambling setup? Somethin' like that?"

Matty sighed. "It's a little unconventional, even for Phoenix, which is why I called you three in. Several similar events have reported their prize money suspiciously disappearing before it could be handed out but nobody can find proof of the crimes. Local law enforcement has looked into it but they're saying that the company putting on the shows must not have had the funds to begin with. That it was just a ploy to draw in bigger named competitors. Only problem is they are all organized by different companies, from all across the state with no discernible trace or pattern Our informant," She clicked another button and the screen shifted to show the blank silhouette of a man no distinguishing features other than the cowboy hat on his head, "Who's identity will be remaining entirely covert to everyone but myself, has contacted me saying he caught wind of a plan to steal the earnings from this event this weekend."

"And where exactly did _he_ get this information?" Riley asked.

"He's in on it himself, ain't he?" Jack asked, turning to Matty with a knowing smile. "That's why we can't know who he is. And like you said, there's a ton of money in these shows. Him getting off scot-free was part of the deal. What's making him turn on his crew now?"

"Because it's a charity event," Mac answered for her, having picked up on that vital word in the rodeo's headline. "It's one thing to steal prize money from a show, from a winner who would always have the chance to win it again next time, but when the profits are going to someone that actually needs the money..."

"A local children's hospital." Matty agreed. "It's a yearly event, and is where they get most of their funds from to stay open throughout the year."

"So, what, we go in, find the guys responsible, including your contact, bring em in, and then you just let him go as a thank you gift?" Jack asked.

"Close. I'm sending you two in undercover. And Riley mostly for behind-the-scenes surveillance, partially because I'm not sure I trust you two alone on this one." She teased. "As soon as we have viable evidence of them taking the money you send it to me, I contact the local authorities, they handle it from there." Matty explained.

"Decent plan," Jack admitted. "But us getting the chance to bring them in ourselves, would be better. Hmm..." He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "What kind of cover could we use to make that look convincing? If only there were some sort of, oh I don't know, ranger or something, you know, one that was specifically geared towards the Lonestar State, to take care of these things."

"Let me finish with _my _plan before you continue the sales pitch, alright Jack?" Matty fondly rolled her eyes before turning them to Mac. "You're alright on a horse, right Blondie?"

"Um, yeah?" Mac answered, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. "I mean, I can get by without any issue, I'm good on the basics."

"He can hold his own," Jack cut in.

"Hopefully you won't even need to put a boot in a stirrup." Matty quickly added. "I just need you comfortable enough to look the part of up-and-coming rodeo star."

"Then we're fine." Mac assured with a nod, shoulders slightly sagging in relief.

"Wait, why's he get to be the star?" Jack asked, jumping to his feet, eyes shooting accusatory daggers at his boss. "I'm the one on this team with actual rodeo experience here. Pretty sure I got some buckles in a drawer somewhere back home to prove it, you want me to go get 'em?"

"Ideally, yes, Jack I would have reversed roles here, but age plays a factor in this one." Matty admitted with a sigh.

"Meaning?" Jack asked, crossing his arms, defensive.

"_Meaning_," Matty snarked right back. "That while sure, it may be a little hard to sell that you're just breaking into the rodeo circuit, we could make it work. It would be impossible, though, to sell Mac as the experienced oil baron with so much of his hard-earned fortune to burn that he's funding the entire competition. Trust fund kid spending daddy's money? Sure. But I needed someone experienced, who could look the part _and_ hold his own with the locals, throwing around money and downing tumblers of bourbon while he talks up the new superstar he discovered riding broncs just for fun while working as a ranch hand on one of the seven estates he owns. Sound like something you'd be good for?"

"I think that might just be a good fit." Jack agreed, sitting back down.

"When do we leave?" Riley asked, closing her laptop and slipping it into the backpack at her feet.

"Now." Matty closed the photographs on the screen behind her. "All the alias information is waiting for you to review on the plane. Mac, Jack, make sure you stop off at the fourth floor on your way, wardrobe has undercover bags packed and waiting for you."

"So we go board the plane," Riley sighed. "And get to listen to Jack sing 'All My Exes Live in Texas' the whole way there."

Jack shot her a wink. "Naw, I'll throw in some 'God Bless Texas' every once and a while. Mix it up a little. You know," He paused to turn back to face Matty. "If I'm goin' in as a big-shot with too much money to blow, there better be some good stuff in that bag, Matty. Real authentic."

"I'm aware, Jack." She rolled her eyes. "It's taken care of. There's even a pair of custom Lucchese's waiting for you. Don't screw this one up and I may just let you keep them."

He slapped Mac on the back as he hurried through the doorway. "Let's do this!"

~M~

Matty, true to her word, had ensured that Mac and Jack were fully prepared for their undercover work. Jack had instantly begun digging through the overflowing duffel bag as soon as the plane took off, changing into the pressed button-down, designer jeans and, as promised, custom boots. He carefully snapped the new cuff links, which were in the shape of longhorn skulls, of course, and had probably cost Phoenix almost as much as he had last payday, into place. They were pretty badass and he was giving some serious thought to keeping them in exchange for his next paycheck. Carefully placing the new Stetson on his head, he sat down to examine the alias file Matty had waiting on board for him while Mac took his own bag into the bathroom to change.

"You're seriously already wearing that?" He asked when he returned, dressed in a plaid shirt and jeans, a pair of dusty, well-worn looking boots on his feet. Phoenix wardrobe was nothing if not thorough.

"Of course," Jack replied, not bothering to look up from his file. "I'm getting into character and besides, I happen to know that I look damn handsome in it."

Mac shook his head with a smile. "Well, there's a Longhorns ball cap in my bag that I'm sticking with until I absolutely _have _to put mine on." He set his cowboy hat down on the empty seat beside him. Again, slightly beaten-up, especially compared to Jack's expensive new leather one."I feel like I'm dressing up for Halloween in that thing."

"You can get by without it till the competition tomorrow," Jack assured. "But you'll get used to it after a while. Just like anything else undercover, it's more about actin' like you belong in it than anything."

"Says the guy who pitches a fit anytime he has to wear a tie." Mac shot back with a smirk.

"Cause ties are pointless and uncomfortable," Jack answered automatically. "This is tradition."

Mac shook his head with a smile as he settled in to study his own alias file for the rest of the flight.

"You're missing a buckle." Jack interrupted his reading a few moments later after looking up and getting his first glimpse of his partner's outfit. "But I guess that was intentional. This is supposed to be your first go at one of these shows, maybe Matty's expectin' you to win you one there."

"Yeah," Mac rolled his eyes. "Like that's gonna happen. I'm just going to try not to get myself killed and we'll call it a win."

~M~

It was hours later, after their flight had landed and the three of them headed towards the rodeo grounds, that Mac and Jack saw each other again. Riley had gone automatically to find the tech trailer Matty had set up for her, while Mac went to check out the competition. Jack spent the afternoon with the rest of the shows investors, buying drinks with the fancy new wallet full of Phoenix-loaded black cards Matty had provided and quickly winning them over. Jack was a naturally likable person, but when he put forth an effort? He became downright charismatic. Nobody was immune to his charms, and that was without the endless liquor and slightly fabricated tales of growing up 'ten counties just north of here' and how he made his first million and it was all uphill from there.

He found Mac standing, boots balanced on the bottom rung of one of the fences, separating the arena from the rest of the venue, arms folded and resting across the top rail, watching one of his fellow competitors on a bronc.

"He's good," Jack, said, nodding towards the young man, clearly one to watch out for, even his practice clothes were emblazoned with sponsorship patches.

Mac tilted his head to the side, contemplative. "Better than most I've seen so far," He agreed. "But his form's a little off. He's leaning too far forward. It's gonna throw off his center of gravity any second now." As predicted, the man fell off only a hairsbreadth later. "Told ya."

Jack shook his head. His partner's brains never failed to amaze him. "Yeah, well, trust me. When it's your ass in that saddle? Physics is the last thing on your mind."

"That's all it is though," Mac frowned beneath the brim of the, as promised, ball cap he was wearing. "It's just physics. Momentum and thrust. Figure out the forces behind it and you can work out a formula to stay on."

Jack laughed, reaching out to wrap an arm around his shoulders. "Those are the longest eight seconds of a man's life right there, Mac. But no matter how long it feels like, there's no time in there to work out an equation, I promise. There's too many variables even if you could. You're talkin' about a living, breathing, wild animal. Unless you can read it's mind, which, unless there are some new superpowers that brain of yours has cooked up, there's no way to predict how it's gonna go when that gate opens. You just hang on for dear life and hope to last longer than the rest of 'em."

"Well, I'm not planning on finding out." Mac conceded, glancing around to make sure nobody was close enough to overhear them. "You get any usable leads on a suspect yet?"

"Naw," Jack shook his head. "Spent most of the evening talkin' you up to the big-shots up in the box seats."

"It work?"

Jack grinned. "Between the six hundred dollar bottles of single malt Phoenix bought 'em and the videos the tech team whipped up of your face cropped beneath the hat of some guy who can actually do what we're claiming you can on a bronc? Yeah, they seemed to. How about you?"

Mac shook his head. "Apparently this isn't a very welcoming bunch. Nobody seemed too excited to talk to the new guy showing up the day before the competition with an investor who could buy theirs all out in a second."

Jack sighed, he had expected as much. "You ready to call it a day? I already talked to Ri, she's supposed to meet us at the hotel with dinner."

"Definitely." Mac agreed, wincing as another man broke into the practice ring, not lasting two seconds on the wildly bucking horse beneath him before being thrown to the ground with an audible thump.

~M~

"So how exactly does this work?" Riley asked around a bite of pizza. As promised, she had been waiting in the suite Matty had set them up in with pizzas and beer. "This whole money thing?"

Jack leaned back against the sofa cushions, propping his feet up on the coffee table, new boots still on his feet. "Basically, all the investors get to sit around all day drinking and placing bets on each event. It's not quite set up like a legit competition, there's only one round of each event. You have to place your money before the competitor enters the ring, but instead of one of them winning the money at the end, it all gets pooled together in a big lump sum and wired to the hospital. You set up the trackers, right?"

"Yeah, we'll know the moment the money has been wired, whether that's to the hospital or to the thief's personal account," Riley assured. "I did that right after I hacked into their performance schedule and set Mac up to ride last. Though I'm not sure how that's going to help us and brings me back to my original question. He's still _on the schedule. _I saw some of those guys getting thrown around while setting up my cameras and it looked really dangerous. Are we seriously just going into this expecting Mac to be able to do that?"

"You worry too much, Ri." Jack smiled, reaching for another piece of pizza. "We've got it under control."

Mac took a drink of his beer before answering. "Not exactly. We're running on the assumption that the combination of Jack spending the day buying drinks for everyone and broncs being the last event in a long lineup will have everyone placing their bets on it before it's actually over. And since whoever has been stealing the prize money has a working knowledge of how these things work, as soon as all the bets are in they're going to go ahead and get the money before they get caught. If things go the way we're hoping local PD will be shutting the whole event down to arrest the thief before the broncs round is over. Meaning before I go in, since I'm up last."

"So basically none of this is in your control?" She asked. "That doesn't sound like much of a plan, guys. What if Jack can't get them all drunk enough to put their bets in early?"

Mac sighed, meeting Jack's eyes with a wary smile. "Improvise." They answered in unison.

~M~

"You ready, hoss?" Jack asked as he swung his rental car, a big black shiny SUV that Phoenix would be getting a bill for in a few days, into a VIP spot. Riley had left the hotel early that morning, while the two of them were still getting ready, to double-check her camera connections and get settled into her trailer before the place got too crowded. If things went as planned nobody would even remember seeing her there at all.

Mac shrugged. "I guess so? I mean, you're the one who has to put in all the work this time around. I just have to stand around all day and look like I know what the hell I'm doing."

"Psych out the competition," Jack agreed. "Good strategy."

"You really think we can pull this one off?" Mac asked suddenly, turning towards Jack. "I mean, Riley's kinda right this isn't much of a plan. And we don't even have comms for this one."

"Since when do we need a plan?" Jack asked, giving Mac's knee a comforting squeeze before swinging open his door. "We got this dude. It'll all work out, you'll see."

Mac nodded, stepping out of the air-conditioned car and into the blazing Texas heat. He was almost grateful for the cowboy hat Jack had once again insisted he wear when they were getting dressed that morning, as it kept the sun from beating down on his face. They made their way across the parking lot, through the maze of audience parking and competitor vehicles and livestock trailers, until they parted ways at the grandstand, Mac heading to get his competition number, just one of many in the seemingly never-ending line of plaid and leather-clad competitors.

Jack didn't see much of him throughout the day, he had grown so accustomed to being able to locate Mac in a crowd by his hair but from his position in the private box seats, his partner was just one of many making up the sea of young men in cowboy hats currently swarming the arena. Riley texted him updates, whenever she caught a glimpse of him in her cameras, though they were infrequent and short since he had things to do other than constantly check his phone. He kept the liquor flowing, for all the investors watching the event, and played along, laughing at their jokes and cheering on their favorites and upping their bets once the competition began. It was a long day, beginning with the junior rodeo and skills events, before the real show began that evening.

When the only event remaining was the bronc competition, Jack excused himself from his ever-growing crowd of fans. His cellphone was pressed against his hear as soon as it was quiet enough for him to hear the ringing on the other end. "You got anything yet?" He asked as soon as Riley picked up.

"No," But I wasn't expecting to. His event hasn't even started yet, Jack. Wasn't this the plan?" She asked.

"Yeah," He sighed, he was getting a bad feeling about this one. "I'm just questioning how good of a plan it actually was." He admitted.

He could practically hear Riley roll her eyes on the other end of the line. "Of course, now you decide that. A little late now, Jack. You should have decided this last night when I brought it up!"

"Well, I didn't." He began pacing the length of the nearly empty hallway, eyes locked on the television screen in the corner broadcasting what he was missing out in the stands. "You got eyes on him?"

"In lineup." She confirmed.

"How's he looking?"

"Honestly," The hesitation in her voice only added to his discomfort. "A little nervous."

Jack pinched the bridge of his nose and began willing himself to calm down. There was nothing he could do, and he had a cover to maintain or he would risk blowing their entire operation. "You have Matty on speed dial, you hear me?" He said. "And keep a close eye on those fancy trackers you set up. As soon as you catch wind of the drop going down you get her on the line and have 'em shut this thing down."

"Obviously, Jack. That was the plan, remember? Stop worrying, he'll be fine."

He hung up the phone without answering her, a feeling in his gut, the one that was fine-tuned to alerting him to when his partner was in danger, telling him that she was very, very, wrong.

~M~

Mac stood in the line of other men waiting for their turn to ride. Unlike him, though, they mostly seemed excited. He was staring fixated at the shirt in front of him, covered in logos of sponsorships, mostly local, some national chains that he recognized. Trying to place each one of them was keeping his mind occupied but was doing little to calm his nerves. He just hoped he wasn't fidgety enough to look suspicious, that any nervous ticks could be chalked up to lack of experience in such an organized setting. He let his eyes scan the crowd, knowing that he wouldn't be able to see Jack from such a far distance, but he tried anyway.

The day had dragged by, the combination of heat and nerves and constantly being on the lookout for anyone suspicious to point Riley towards and being in an uncomfortable setting without Jack had begun to take its toll. He found himself wishing the queue in front of him would hurry up, the sooner the majority of them had their turn out of the gate, the sooner Riley could find the thief and this would all be over. It was a wish he found himself regretting moments later when he realized that there were only three competitors left in front of him and there was no sign of local law enforcement storming in and shutting the event down.

"C' mon," He muttered under his breath, anxiously scanning the crowd again.

When the line had dwindled down to just him and the man in front of him, the one with all the logos on his competition gear that some small part of Mac's brain, a part that wasn't busy screaming in mild panic, placed as the guy he and Jack had watched practice the day before, he realized that he wasn't getting out of this.

He squared his shoulders and took a breath, steeling himself for what was about to come. As he waited for his number to be called, he idly realized that he should have paid more attention to how the other competitors had done. He couldn't see the scoreboard from where he was positioned now, so close to the gate, and he had no clue how long he needed to hang on to appear as if he had a tiny shred of the natural talent Jack had been bragging about to all the investors. If he was actually going to go through with this, he wanted to at least not make a complete fool of himself in the process.

Mac heard the crowd's roar of disappointment when the current rider, who was apparently a favorite to win, was thrown from his horse only a few seconds into his run. He took a moment, while the horse, who was proudly kicking its way, riderless, across the arena, was being corralled, to look up, towards the general direction of where he knew Riley had positioned one of her surveillance cameras. "Improvise." He whispered to it, flinching as his number was called.

~M~

Jack, despite his best efforts, had failed. He knew that nobody else would see it that way, but that's what it felt like to him, because, no matter how hard he had tried or how many drinks he poured, the group of men, who he found were becoming more loud and obnoxious by the minute, had decided to wait until the last second to post their bets. Apparently, he had talked Mac up _too _much, a problem none of them had factored into their half-assed plan, and they were very excited to see how he performed. The fact that no rider had made it through clean had them willing to take a chance and when the favorite to win the whole thing, who just happened to have lucked into the slot before Mac, got knocked out less than two seconds in, they all decided to go all-in on Mac.

The only good thing to come out of this mess, Jack reminded himself, is that when they inevitably caught the thief, and they would catch him, Riley's surveillance would make sure to that, he had gotten all the investors so buzzed that they had all spent way more money than they had originally intended to. That hospital would be having a huge donation coming their way, he just couldn't find it in himself to be happy about it. Even if the money was transferred right then there was no way for Matty to shut the event down before Mac's turn was up.

It was official, their cover was blown. There was no way they were getting out of this one unmade. He was so distracted by checking exit plans for the easiest way to swing by and grab both of his kids to make a clean escape that he almost missed his phone ringing. "What?" He snapped, not bothering to even look at the screen.

"Jack! Are you seeing this?" Riley asked, panicked. He couldn't tell where she was, it was much louder than their previous conversation had been from the quiet of her secure trailer. It almost sounded as if she was in the crowd.

"Seein' what, Ri? I'm trying to fix up a route to get us outta here since our cover's all shot to hell." He growled, stepping away from the investors who were staring excitedly down at the arena below them.

"It's not blown, Jack," Riley said warily. "I wish it was. Look."

He rushed over to the railing as soon as he realized what she meant, getting there just in time to catch a glimpse of his partner on the back of a clearly already agitated monster of a horse. His heart dropped when the starting bell sounded and the gate swung open wide.

~M~

Mac hadn't been lying to Matty when he promised her that he was comfortable enough with the basics of horseback riding. He may not have lasted long in the Scouts, but it had been long enough for a trail ride with the rest of the troop that he had found enjoyable enough. There was a ranch a few miles away from his grandpa's fishing cabin outside Mission City and they would go for rides sometimes, when his grandfather was still well enough to go on adventures like that, and Jack had made sure he kept up the skill once they started working together for DXS. It had proven useful more times than he would have liked to admit, over the years. But those times were nothing like this.

He wasn't entirely convinced that the animal beneath him was, in fact, actually a horse. It seemed to be an entirely different type of creature, dangerous and furious with the world, him most of all. He tried his best, once they flew out of the gate and barreled into the center of the dusty arena, to think of the list of mental notes he had taken just the day before but he couldn't remember a single one of them. Jack had been right, time seemed to be dragging by almost comically slow but he couldn't find the time to think about anything other than hanging on for dear life.

He felt his hat go flying off, caught in the wind of a powerful jolt that had all four of the horse's legs off the ground at once and he begged his gloved hand to grip the reins even tighter. He wondered, idly amongst the panic, how his time was holding up against the rest of the competitors and that was when things went wrong. It was as if the horse knew the exact second the entirety of his mind wasn't focused on his balance and grip, knew exactly when he was distracted, even a little, and she reared backward, black mane flapping inches away from Mac's face. She came down hard, jolting him nearly off with that move alone, but without hesitation kicked her hind legs up and it was enough to send him flying.

Rough dismount aside, it hadn't been a terrible run. He had the presence of mind to think, as he was flying through the air, that he was almost proud. He still wasn't sure how long he had held on, it felt like an eternity but for all he knew it could have been less than a second, but he thought he had at least done better than some of the guys he had watched go before him. As long as he did well enough to pass for not being a complete novice and blowing their covers, he had done his job and that was all that mattered.

He had the time to think all that before the horses back hooves, which were still kicking away at the now not-so-empty air he was falling through, collided sharply with his side. He felt his body go flying higher for a brief moment, propelled, before crashing down hard into the sand and he then he wasn't thinking much of anything at all.

He would remember brief snippets of what happened after that, but they were random, hazy and unfocused. Memories of laying on the sand, not nearly as soft as it appeared from a distance, unable to do anything but hurt and hope that the monster not-so-cleverly disguised as a horse would take mercy on him and not come back. Memories of a flash of red emergency kits as medics dropped to their knees beside him and blacking out from the pain as they loaded him onto a stretcher. Coming to in the familiar bustle of an ambulance, and how sad was it that he got hurt so frequently that an ambulance's interior was a familiar sight? A hand tightly gripping his, small and soft, but strong and safe just the same. He wasn't quite sure how many times he remembered asking for Jack in the midst of the pain, they all blended together after a while, but he knew it was several.

~M~

Jack knew he was breaking every speed limit sign he barreled past but he didn't care. His only goal was to chase down the ambulance speeding down the highway with his kids on board. He was several minutes behind it and he knew, realistically, that there was no way he was going to make it to the hospital at the same time. More than likely, Mac would already be wheeled past the 'Emergency Staff Only' doors he had watched swing closed in his face too many times in his life, once he arrived, and that should have made him feel better, knowing that Mac was receiving medical attention that quickly, he just hated that he didn't get a chance to see him before they drove away. His only comfort was in knowing that Riley, who instead of watching Mac's terrifying, if not impressive ride, had pushed her way through the crowds and had fought her way onto the ambulance with him in a show of scary stubbornness that could only be learned from one Jack Dalton.

As he jogged through the hospital hallways, the new boots now clacking against the linoleum floors the furthest thing from his mind, he realized that he wasn't sure he had actually parked the car. For all he knew, it was still running in the middle of the parking lot. He couldn't find it in himself to care.

"Ri?" He called quietly, once he had made his way through the maze of seemingly never-ending hallways and found the emergency waiting room. She looked up at the sound of his voice and instantly jumped to her feet, tugging him into a hug.

"He's alright," She assured, pulling away from him just enough to be able to look up into his eyes. "He's gonna be alright."

Jack sighed, running a hand through his hair. He had left the new hat behind somewhere but hadn't even noticed that it was gone yet. "You just sayin' that or do you know?"

"I haven't heard anything since we got here," She admitted, taking Jack's hand and pulling him down to the seat beside her's. "But the medics in the ambulance said unless something more serious showed up in scans he would be fine. Just sore for a while."

"You didn't see that hit, Ri." Jack shook his head, trying to shake the image out of his memory. He knew he would be having nightmares about it for months to come. "She kicked him _hard. _Wasn't just a clip, either, she kicked him straight in the ribs. That much power? Could do some serious damage."

"He'll be alright, Jack." Riley repeated, tightening her grip on his hand and settling in to wait.

~M~

"I'm fine." Mac declared before Jack had even pushed the door to his room entirely open. "Calm down, Jack. I'm fine."

"You ain't fine, you're black and blue, layed up in a hospital bed," Jac argued, though the tightness that had taken hold of his chest since Mac's round began had lessened significantly upon seeing his partner awake and talking. "That's pretty far from my definition of fine, brother, at least where you're concerned."

"Where's Riley?" Mac frowned, staring past Jack to the empty doorway. He had been fairly certain she had been with him when he was brought into the emergency room.

"Went back to the hotel to pack." Jack grabbed a chair and pulled it closer to Mac's bedside before dropping into it with a sigh. "Get you some clothes for when they finally let you outta here. But don't change the subject. What's the damages?"

It was Mac's turn to sigh. "Honestly, man, I really am okay. Slight concussion, bruised all to hell, and four busted ribs, but all things considered, it could have been a _lot _worse."

"I don't know, kiddo," Jack frowned. "You didn't have to see it happen. I thought for sure that animal had went and killed you on my watch."

"No, I lived it, didn't have to see it cause I was there." Despite the pain he had to be in, Mac smiled. "And trust me, it could have been worse. I talked to the ER doc. He said if that kick hadn't flipped me? If I had landed on the same side as those broken ribs? I wouldn't have made it out of that arena."

Jack couldn't quite suppress a shudder. "He shouldn't have told you that. Only thing you need to be thinkin' bout right now is getting better, not how you almost died pulling that crazy stunt. Speaking of, what in the hell were you thinking? Climbin' in that chute? That was never part of the plan, bud."

"I improvised." Mac shrugged his shoulders and instantly regretted the move when it pulled on his broken ribs. He hadn't even known he had reached for Jack's hand until the cloud of pain had dissipated and he was still clutching tightly to familiarly calloused fingers. "Sorry," He apologized, voice hoarse, as he let go.

"Don't worry about it," Jack assured, reaching over to slowly adjust Mac's bed, knowing he would be more comfortable laying down but would be too stubborn to do it himself. He gently carded his now empty hand through Mac's hair, an act as much for his own comfort as it was Mac's. The kid would be putting up with some serious over-protectiveness for the next few days, that was certain. "Don't do somethin' like that again, you hear me? Getting on that horse? You're way too smart to pull a stupid stunt like that, Mac."

"Had to keep our cover."

"No, screw that, our cover blows? So be it, you leave it up to me to get us out of there before it hits the fan." Jack insisted. "I'll take care of it, always. You don't go and do something that could get you killed just to uphold the mission. You hear me?"

"Yeah," Mac agreed with a grin that, unfortunately, made it pretty obvious that he would have done the same exact thing if given another chance. "I hear ya."

"Of course," Riley laughed as she opened the door. "I leave for ten minutes and you two are already arguing."

"We ain't arguing," Jack defended. "I was just informing Mac here that he really needs to realize how important it is that he be careful and not do any more crazy trick riding."

"Sure," Riley rolled her eyes, reaching one of the bags in her hand out towards Jack. "Here, go get changed. Back to reality, no more Lifestyles of the Rich and Texas. Mac didn't go through all that just for us to blow our cover now."

"Yeah, alright." Jack conceded, standing up and offering Riley the newly-vacated chair. "But I'm keepin' the boots."

"Did it work?" Mac asked once Jack had shut the bathroom door behind him.

"What?" Riley looked down at him, confused, before remembering that he had been out of it for the last part of their mission. "Yeah, other than you deciding to play cowboy everything went off perfectly. Thieves are in custody, children's hospital should be getting their prize money as we speak."

"Good," Mac sighed in relief, sinking further into his bed. "Honestly, there was a minute or two back there when I didn't know if this one was gonna play out in our favor or not."

"It did, thanks to you." Riley smiled. "Oh! Which reminds me." She began digging through the bag of Mac's clothes at her feet. "One of the responding officers saw me at the hotel. Asked me to give you this." She handed him a shiny gold belt buckle in the shape of a bucking horse.

He stared at it for a moment before fully understanding what it meant. "Seriously?" He asked, looking back up at her in shock.

She grinned back. "Yup. I couldn't quite believe it either, but apparently, that was quite an impressive ride. Good enough to win you first place."

"Hey!" Jack exclaimed when he came out of the bathroom, dressed in civilian clothes once again, though he apparently somehow found time to sneak a Garth Brooks t-shirt into his bag. "What'd I tell ya? We got you a buckle after all."

"Yeah," Mac agreed, setting it on the nightstand beside him. It was heavier than he had expected. "And the breaks and bruises to go with it."

"Ropes and reins and joy and pain, brother." Jack teased, grabbing another chair and sitting down, propping his new boots up on the corner of Mac's bed and leaning back so the chair was balancing on only two legs. "And they call the thing rodeo."

**Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!**


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